


Podcasts and Pies

by shiptoomuch



Series: Podcasts and Pies [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 07:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6185446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiptoomuch/pseuds/shiptoomuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric Bittle is a guest on a hockey podcast defending Jack Zimmermann's NHL career. And, well, Jack wants to meet him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Podcasts and Pies

“Jack Zimmermann is a player who we can count on to be consistently dedicated to perfecting his game. He hasn’t taken a day off from that goal and I don’t think he will any time soon. In my humble opinion, he’s one of the beset players in the league.”

“Bittle, no offense intended, but you’re a celebrity baker. The track record of Zimmermann is inconsistent at best. Just look at what happened when he was eighteen. I just don’t think he’ll be able to live up to the legacy of his father.”

“That was _seven years ago,_ Hansen. And since then, we’ve only seen him improve. You’re underestimating him. And I don’t think I should have to remind you that _Jack Zimmermann is not his father,_ and maybe that’s a good thing.” Eric Bittle smoothly ignores the slight to his own character and continues on with a cheery smile. “Jack brings something new to the league, something that we need.”

“Yes but against a team like the Blackhawks who have a longstanding tradition of excellence, do you think he’ll be able to hold his own?” Hansen asks with raised eyebrows.

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

Jack closes the podcast and sits back in his seat. When George had sent him the video from _Check, Please,_ the most popular podcast when it comes to hockey, he had been expecting another bloodbath on his name. 

He did get that, as expected, but what he hadn’t been expecting was the guest that was present, an apparent celebrity baker, who had defended him to the end. A man who seemed at first like he didn’t know the first thing about hockey, but who Jack had to admit, knew where he was coming from.

Jack pulls out his phone and texts George, _Wow that was…unexpected_

_Keep what that kid said in mind come Friday. Don’t let Bittle down. ;)_

Jack glares at his phone. Leave it to George to make a pick-me-up awkward. He stows the device away and turns back to his screen. Without thinking about it a particularly large amount, he types ‘Eric Bittle’ into the search bar. A vlog comes up.

Much to Jack’s surprise, he finds that the young man goes to Samwell. And _plays_ at Samwell.

Had Jack not left the university after their sophomore year, they would have played together.

 _“Our fearless Captain, Shitty, has been accepted into Harvard, which is just about the best birthday present I could have asked for.”_ Bittle says cheerily at the camera, practically bouncing in his seat. _“I baked him his own pie, but the fool was too busy on the phone with his ‘best bro for life, man’ to eat it while it was warm. But worry not, Lardo and I took advantage of it. Y’all, if I’m being honest, I’m a little bit worried about how she’s handling the news.”_

Jack smiles fondly at the screen before something suddenly clicks. Eric Bittle. _Bitty._

This has got to be the right wing that Shitty has been gushing about and dropping not-so-subtle hints about for the last few months. Jack pauses the video and studies the screen. Shitty is right. The kid is cute, in a sort of cherubic way. And he’s definitely small for hockey. If Jack is being honest, the constant gushing over him is the reason why Jack has yet to visit the Haus or go to any Samwell games. He’s not sure how much he wants to be made subject to Shitty’s misguided matchmaking attempts. 

But hey, Bittle’s obviously a fan. It probably wouldn’t hurt to go say hi.

-

“Is that Jack fucking Zimmermann?” Shitty practically launches himself out of the front door of the Haus upon seeing Jack step out of his car. “Holy fuck, dude! It’s been forever!”

Jack struggles to hold up a Shitty who has decided the best way to greet Jack is by throwing himself into his arms. “Hey, Shits. And you came to one of my games last week.”

“Yeah, but it’s been forever since you’ve been _here.”_ Shitty says enthusiastically. “It feels so good to be in your arms again, baby.”

Jack drops Shitty on the ground and rolls his eyes. Shitty moans dramatically and flops back on the grass. “You wound me, Zimmermann.”

“I hate you.”

The unison cry of “Jack!” that comes from the Haus is unmistakably Ransom and Holster. He grins sheepishly as the frogs of his last year at Samwell come up to him and slap him on the back. They shepherd him toward the Haus, leaving Shitty laying in the grass.

Jack hardly makes it into the house before he’s passed around with hugs and comments on his last game. He blushes bright red when Lardo comes up and mentions that Jack is, without a doubt, the hottest player in the league currently “With Corey Crawford running a close second, of course.”

“Of course,” Jack agrees. “You know, I could probably get his autograph for you on Friday.”

Lardo shakes her head and waves him off. “You know I’m too cool for that, Zimms. Just touch his ass for me and we’ll be good.”

“Can do.”

“Bits!” Ransom shouts into the kitchen. “Come on, Jack’s here.”

An annoyed huff comes in response. “I don’t care if it’s the Queen of England, I am in the middle of something.”

“Making apple pie filling doesn’t count.” Rans replies with an eyeroll. “Come meet the guy who gave Samwell our good name.”

“Shut up, Rans.” Jack mutters. “It wasn’t just me.”

“Well, you _helped.”_

Finally, Bittle emerges from the kitchen, a washcloth in his hands. He’s…taller than Jack expected. Something about his videos made him look particularly tiny. But in reality, he’s not exactly small. Just small for hockey. Jack smiles shyly at him. BIttle is definitely as attractive as he remembers. Even with a smudge of flour on his cheek.

“Well, hi there. It’s nice to finally met the man that Shitty here keeps gushing about.” Bittle says with that thick southern drawl and holds out a hand to shake. His grip is firm. “I’m a fan myself, of course.”

“I heard your Check, Please episode.” Jack blurts out suddenly and takes in the very pretty sight of the light pink flush high on Bittle’s cheeks. “It was…cool.”

BIttle waves him off. “Well, it’s all true. I’ve been forced into following your career by these hooligans and I must say, you really do give it all you’ve got.”

“Not a lot of people like to recognize that.”

“That’s because they’re all judgmental fuckers who give into stigmas against mental health.” Shitty says from behind Jack, obviously having picked himself up off of the lawn. “But we know the real Jack, don’t we boys?”

Ransom and Holster cheer and slap Jack on the back again. 

“Well, I’m going to go get back to work, then,” Bitty cuts through with a smile, “Pie’ll be ready in about twenty, so stay hungry.”

Jack stares after Bitty’s back as he goes back into the kitchen. He wants to follow him. Instead, he settles for turning back to Shitty. “Pie?”

“Yeah, the kid loves to bake. It was weird at first but the Haus smells great all the time now and he’s seriously baller at it.” Shitty sounds genuinely impressed. “You should stay and have some, if your diet will allow. And if I know you, you haven’t taken a cheat day in about a year.”

Jack nods. It’s true. He’s been fairly strict about himself lately. Is always strict if he’s being really honest. A piece of pie, especially when it smells as good as the Haus does right now, could be just the thing Jack needs.

“And he dances while he bakes. You should go in and watch him shake that sweet ass.” Shitty says as he elbows Jack in the side. 

“I’m going in, but not because I want to ogle him, but because it smells awesome in there and I know what the Haus smells like normally.” Jack shoves Shitty off with a laugh. He’s only partially lying, mostly telling the truth. Bittle is attractive and Jack would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see more of him.

When he goes in, Bittle is, in fact dancing along to music playing softly from his phone. Beyonce, Jack thinks. One of his teammate’s wives likes to play her music whenever the team gets together. “What song is this?”

“Halo, Beyonce.”

Jack chalks that up to a score in his favor in the endless game of “Jack doesn’t know pop culture” that Shitty seems to be playing. He sits at the kitchen table. “Sweet. So…you’re making a pie?”

“I’m making three pies.” Bitty corrects, sliding on of the said pies into the oven. “I was originally only making one, but then you showed up, and I can never let a guest leave empty-handed. It’s simply not how my Mama raised me.”

Jack stares openly at Bittle. “So you’re making me…two pies?”

“You can never have too much pie.” Bitty shrugs and smiles down at the dough that he’s working. “Besides, consider it a thank you.”

“Thank you?”

Bittle blushes to his roots and smiles at Jack. “For being…you know. The first openly gay player in the NHL.”

Jack chokes on his tongue but masks it with a cough. At least he hopes he does. “My pleasure, I guess.”

“I have to say I’m surprised that I haven’t seen you out and about with some male model or other.” Bitty comments, definitively not looking at Jack. 

“Well, it’s not for lack of trying on Shitty’s part,” Jack says through a chuckle. “I swear, he’s constantly trying to set me up with-“

Jack cuts off, because actually acknowledging that Shits has been trying to set the two of them up for the past year would be beyond awkward. Even more awkward that Jack’s general personality.

“Oh Lord, you too? I swear, that boy will not rest.” Bitty tuts as he rolls out the dough and presses it into the pan. “I mean, you’re lovely and all, but I couldn’t see myself dating someone who I had never met before.”

Jack bites his lip and tries to think of something else _anything else_ to say before blurting out, “And now that you have met me?”


End file.
